Monday, January 01, 2007

Darlings, do you realize what today is? It is Pretty Lady's one-year anniversary!

She wishes she had some Wise Words to commemorate this momentous occasion, but unfortunately she is too sleepy. She was not precisely carousing until the wee hours; indeed, the Venezuelan party turned out to be rather top-heavy with homosexual gentlemen, much to Pretty Lady's mild disgruntlement. Rather, they were rude gentlemen who simply happened to be homosexual. There is a profound distinction.

For in fact, back in the days when Pretty Lady objected to being dragged to small, crowded gay nightclubs by her then-whatchamacallit, the source of her disgruntled objections was not that 'nobody wanted to sleep with her,' despite the whatchamacallit's opinion to the contrary. It was, simply, that she was taking up space that otherwise could have been occupied by a human body with which the other people in the nightclub had an interest in interacting. Pretty Lady felt instead like an unwieldy and useless piece of furniture, which the nightclub occupants were continually barking their shins thereon, and it was not a comfortable sensation.

So Pretty Lady is not sleepy because she had a wildly excellent time, last night. In fact, she rather longed to escape to last years' French bar, but since her charming host had prepared an extensive feast for his guests, she decided to hover discreetly in the kitchen and obtain his recipes, so as not to counter rudeness with rudeness. Shortly after consuming twelve grapes at midnight, in the Venezuelan tradition, the party broke up, and Pretty Lady's friend walked her home, with dog.

No, Pretty Lady rather suspects she's sleepy because she has been making extensive Resolutions, and cleaning house, and the combined physical, mental and spiritual challenges inherent therein have made her a bit stupid. Her home looks lovely, however.

So Pretty Lady merely wishes a very Happy New Year to all of you darlings, and she looks forward to sharing many more with you.

"My resolution this year is to record my life in painstaking detail. Of course I shall fail. Ernest says so. Ernest says I could write the Great American Novel if only I would stop talking for a nonce, but then I never will."

*ahem*

Your last year's resolution, and if I'm not mistaken your inaugural post. Congratulations on having a jolly go at fulfilling it.

Much looking forward to your sophomore year, Madame la Raconteuse. It would not be the same sphere without you.

A curious thing, resolutions. I am glad to see that someone actually had the fortitude to realize the completion of a New Year's promise. My 2006 resolution was not met as the manuscript molders unceremoniously in the lower left drawer, it's pages unedited, with the rewrite notes fading in the margins. The long-suffering protagonist fumes in his car as I have left him on a lonely stretch of wooded highway with no companions to talk to, only the AM radio in his '66 Ford Galaxie for intellectual relief.

A '66 Ford Galaxie? Is it blue? With an intricate pattern pressed into the blue vinyl seats? That's the car I grew up in! We called it the Great Blue Whale.

At least your protagonist has plenty of room to stretch out in, while he awaits your inspiration.

It would not be the same sphere without you.

Igualmente, my dear Dandy, and the painting has flattened out nicely. I am still moving it from room to room, as I de-clutter the household, in preparation for all the good energy I'm inviting into it. ;-)

This was my first car, and I dearly loved it. However, as the Galaxies were prone to do, the frame rusted out from underneath it in the late 1980's and I sold it to a restorer who repaired it and still shows it to this day. My sister is good friends with the wife of the man who purchased it from me and still refers to it as "my brother's car" when she is with them.

I thought it fitting to give one to the protagonist, although after a year of it's distinctive interior and only the yellow dome light to read by, I am sure he is far less thrilled by it than I was.

Keep in touch, darlings!

About Me

Darlings, where to start? Sometimes I feel as though I have lived a thousand lives in this one, dewy and unlined though my complexion may be. To Tell All may be to intimidate; thus I maintain, at most times, a discreet reserve. But here I share my musings, perhaps revealing the secret to my exquisite poise and charm.